


Confirmed

by azziria



Series: Hooked [10]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: AU, M/M, Prostitution (past), Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-30
Updated: 2012-01-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 08:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azziria/pseuds/azziria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes Danny needs a little help to see things clearly. <i>Hooked</i> 'verse timestamp.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confirmed

**Author's Note:**

> Timestamp, _Hooked_ 'verse, Danny's POV. Falls some time after [Stripped](http://archiveofourown.org/works/296299).

  


The bar is crowded, full of beautiful people in expensive clothes. It’s way out of Danny’s usual price range, he’s painfully aware of that and he wonders yet again what he’s doing here, sitting at the bar in his work-wrinkled chain store shirt and khakis. He stands out amongst all these rich, beautiful people and he's sure that people are looking at him. Whispering, wondering how he even dares to be there and what on earth he’s after in this place where he so obviously doesn’t belong. 

Danny knows exactly why he’s here though and he hates himself for it. 

His money’s run out, so he’s done for the evening, however much he wants to stay. He drains the last drops of the expensive drink he’s been nursing, some sort of champagne cocktail and puts the glass down on the bar. He yields his bar stool to a scantily-clad silken butterfly who smells of the sort of perfume that Stan buys Rachel and weaves his way across the floor to the door. 

The night air is warm and scented and he pauses on the steps for a moment to get his bearings in the darkness after the light and noise inside. The doorman asks if he wants a cab, but he shakes his head. He has no money left for that, so he’s walking home. It’s a long way from here to his shitty little rathole of an apartment, but he has nothing better to do and nowhere else to be, so he welcomes it. 

He’s about to start walking when a black Porsche sweeps almost noiselessly up to the foot of the steps and comes to a halt, engine purring softly. The driver gets out first, a tall man, lean and blond, with Slavic cheekbones that could cut glass. His looks say movie star, but the three thousand dollar suit and the Rolex he’s wearing says business empire. He tosses the keys to the doorman and steps around the car to wait on his passenger, holding the car door open as his companion unfolds himself from the passenger seat, laughing at something that Danny can’t hear. 

It’s Steve. 

Danny has always known that Steve would look good in Armani and he does. In fact he looks fucking fantastic. His hair’s a little longer than the last time Danny saw him, just starting to curl at the nape of his neck and he looks tanned and relaxed. As Danny watches he slides his arm around the blond man’s waist, leaning in to say something in his ear that elicits a laugh and causes his partner to turn and pull him in for a kiss, playful and yet intimate, oblivious to anyone watching. 

Danny suddenly feels sick. He tries to back away, to slip into the shadows because Steve seeing him was never part of the plan, but he’s too late. Steve and his companion have started up the steps and there's nothing for it but to meet them face-to-face. 

"Danny!" Steve spots him and he's smiling, that gorgeous, easy smile that it took Danny so long to earn. "Haven't seen you in a while, how's it going?" He's arm-in-arm with the blond man as they come up the steps and they look… right together, two sides of the same coin, one light and one dark, two beautiful people without a care in the world. 

"Yeah, it's good, thanks," Danny says, pasting on a bright, carefree face. 

"That's great," Steve says, "Guess I'll see you around, OK?" but his attention's moved on and he's already headed for the bright lights of the bar. 

”Who was that?” he hears the blond man ask. 

He just catches Steve’s reply as they pass through the open doors. ”Oh, just some guy I used to know. Nobody important.” Then with that they're gone. 

Danny watches after them for a moment, willing the nausea in his stomach and the lump in his throat to settle. Steve's gone, he's moved on and Danny should just get over it and get on with his life. It's no more than he expected, after all, stupid pathetic fool that he is. He lets his head drop and his shoulders slump as he turns to face the long march home alone… but as he does so he catches his foot on the step and he can't stop himself, he's falling, falling, shoving his hands out to catch himself as he hits the ground… 

…and he wakes with a jolt, heart racing and the sound of his own cry in his ears. 

It was a dream, just a dream, it wasn't true. Steve is _here_ , wrapped around him like an octopus (because really, when Danny explained the concept of 'cuddling' to Steve he hadn't realized he was creating a _monster_ ) and none of it was real. 

None of it was real, Steve's still here and Danny's just a stupid, paranoid fool. 

That about covers it. 

With a sigh, Danny detaches himself carefully from Steve and rolls out of bed. Steve stirs, but doesn't wake and that's progress from the early days when just about any movement on Danny's part had Steve jolting awake in a nervous sweat. Steve's mending, it's a slow business, admittedly, but he's mending and one day he'll be better. He'll want to move on and Danny's enough of a realist to know that. 

He heads for the kitchen, needing to settle his thoughts before he tries to go back to sleep. He never thought he'd fall this hard again, not after Rachel. He'd blame it on his soft heart, say that he's a sucker for a hard luck case, for being _needed_ , but he knows that's not all of it. There's real _goodness_ in Steve, he's a genuinely true-hearted individual under that damaged exterior and that's what has got Danny truly hooked. 

Of course it doesn't hurt that the goodness comes wrapped up in such a physically attractive package, either. Danny's not blind, after all. 

What's even more amazing is that Steve doesn't seem to realize how much he's got to offer. Danny suspects that Steve's spent so long blaming himself for what happened in Afghanistan and so long believing that he didn't deserve anything better than to be used for sex that he no longer expects any good stuff to come his way. It breaks Danny's heart to think about it. 

Danny's determined to change that. Even if it means that Steve will leave him. 

He takes a glass out of the cabinet and he's about to turn on the faucet when he hears a noise behind him. 

"What's up, Danny? You OK?" 

Steve's leaning in the doorway, all six gorgeous feet of him as naked as the day he was born and even at a time like this the sight takes Danny's breath away. 

"Uh, nothing. Just a nightmare, that's all." 

"A nightmare?" Steve's frowning. "You want to talk about it?" 

No, Danny _doesn't_ want to talk about it. 

"I'm fine, Steve. Go back to bed; I'm just getting a glass of water." 

The frown deepens, and now Steve's advancing on him. "You sure? Because I know a bit about nightmares, Danny…" 

He's clearly not going to drop it and Danny's learned the hard way that when Steve gets a grip on something he doesn't let go until it's been well and truly worried to death. He's going to have to spill if he wants Steve to leave him in peace. 

"I… I was dreaming that you were with someone else, that's all." 

"With someone else?" 

"Yes, Steven. I dreamed that you were with another guy, OK?" 

Steve looks puzzled. "But Danny, you know that I don't do that anymore…" 

"I don't mean with a client. I dreamed that you were _with_ someone, you know, like you're with me, except you weren't anymore, in my dream." 

Steve's face clears. "But I'm not, Danny. I'm with you." 

Danny sighs. He can't believe that they're going to have this conversation here, naked in the kitchen in the middle of the night. 

"I know you are… for now. But one day… if you meet someone... if you wanted to… well, I just want you to know that I wouldn't stand in your way. If you do. Meet someone, that is." 

There, he's said it, it's out in the open. 

Steve looks alarmed, panicky almost. "Are you saying you want to break up with me?" 

"No... no! Of course not!" Danny puts the glass down and pulls Steve into a hug. "Of course I don't want to break up with you, you big idiot. It's just… the guy in my dream, the one you were with, he was rich and good-looking and… tall, and I'm…" 

Steve's tone is confused. "But you're _you_. Why would I want anyone else?" 

Not now, maybe, but Danny's dream was all too clear. One day Steve will realize how special he is, how gorgeous he is and he'll find someone who suits him better than Danny and then he'll be gone. Just so long as Steve's happy, that's all that matters, Danny tells himself, but the lie hurts. 

"Come on, you," he says, tugging at Steve. "Back to bed, I have a busy day tomorrow, I can't spend the night standing around naked in the kitchen, even if the scenery is pretty hot." 

"Danny…" 

"Bed, princess. Some of us need our beauty sleep." 

Steve shuts up and allows himself to be pulled into the bedroom, climbing into bed without further protest and wrapping himself around Danny. It's not long before his breathing evens out and Danny can tell that he's asleep. 

Danny lies there for a long time, caught up in the feel of Steve's heartbeat against his back and Steve's breath in his ear. Caught up in _Steve_. 

He's going to miss this. 

*~*~*~*~*

Breakfast is strained. Steve watches him when he thinks he's not looking and Danny can't quite catch him in the act and call him on it, but he knows Steve's doing it. There's something going on in Steve's head, something not good, Danny suspects and he needs to sort it out before it escalates, he knows that. Right now he hasn't got time, he has to meet Meka to follow up some leads on a case, so he gets his shit together and reluctantly heads on out, leaving Steve sitting at the kitchen table nursing a mug of coffee. 

It's a long day, what with the thought of Steve and his crazy issues worrying away at the back of his mind all the time and he's almost glad when the perp they want to question decides to try and make a run for it. They chase him for five blocks before they bring him down and the flurry of activity, followed by the ritual of cuffing him, reading him his Miranda Rights and taking him in for questioning almost puts the Steve problem out of his mind. 

Almost. 

By the time they've booked the perp, finished up the paperwork and are free to head home it's going on nine. Danny's tired and hungry; he wants food and bed and _Steve_ and to not have to deal with whatever's going on in Steve's head until morning. He can hope. 

A mouth-watering smell greets him as he steps through the door of his apartment. Steve's cooking something and it'll be something disgustingly healthy, Danny knows, but right now he's too tired to offer up even a token protest for the sake of appearances. It just smells good. Steve looks good, too, standing at the stove in a ratty old t-shirt and a soft pair of sweats and Danny can't help himself, he sneaks up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist. 

"Hey babe," he says, nuzzling against Steve's shoulder, "What're you cooking?" 

Steve leans back slightly against him. "What do you always tell me about not interfering with the cook, Danny?" 

"The cook shouldn't be so hot, then," Danny says, grinning into Steve's t-shirt. 

"It's only pasta and sauce." Steve leans forward to taste a spoonful from the pot, his ass rubbing against Danny in a delightfully suggestive way that makes Danny realize that maybe he's not as tired as he thought. "It's nearly ready." 

"I'll set the table," Danny says, but he can't resist running his hands down over Steve's abs and tucking his fingers down inside the waistband of Steve's sweats to check if he's wearing any underwear. A man has needs, after all. 

"Danny…" Steve hisses as Danny's hand brushes against… something. 

"What's this, babe?" 

Steve twists, pulling away from him and tugging his sweats down low so that they ride just below his hipbones. He's got a pad of gauze taped just above his left hip, stark white against his skin and that explains why he's in loose sweats rather than his usual cargoes. 

"What is it? Did you hurt yourself?" 

Steve just _looks_ at him and his face… Danny feels an unsteady lurch in the pit of his stomach because he knows that face. That face means that Steve's done something that he's pretty sure Danny's not going to like, but he did it anyway. That face might just be what Danny could have avoided if he'd not been in such a hurry to get to work this morning. That face is defiant and determined and… something else. 

"Steven. _What've you done?"_

Steve never stops looking at him as he slowly peels the tape on one side of the bandage away from his body, revealing what lies underneath. 

Oh fuck. 

The letters D-A-N-N-Y curve in an arc of curling script across the skin above Steve's hipbone. 

Danny's stunned. So stunned that he's—almost—lost for words. His brain freefalls through space for what feels like a lifetime, tumbling incoherently until it finally connects with his mouth again. 

"What the _fuck_ , Steve?" 

Steve's chin goes up and he gets that stubborn pinched look around his mouth and nose. "You wouldn't believe me when I told you that I don't want anybody else. So I thought I'd show you." 

Danny's still reeling. "But... it's a tattoo..." 

Steve sticks the tape back across his stomach and pulls the sweats up, then stands straight with his arms folded and his jaw clenched. "I know what it is, Danny." 

"Seriously, Steve, a tattoo?" 

Because Danny had known something was up with Steve, had known it wasn't something good, but he'd never expected _this_... 

Steve's face is still stubbornly set. "I told you, Danny. I don't want anyone else." 

”But... a tattoo, Steve! A fucking _tattoo_. That’s _forever_!” 

”Exactly, Danny!” Steve snaps and then he’s gone, slamming the door behind him, leaving Danny standing open-mouthed and... 

Danny’s legs give way all of a sudden and he sits down on the pull out. Forever... Steve got Danny’s name tattooed onto his body because as far as he’s concerned Danny’s _it_. 

The thought makes Danny feel lightheaded and giddy and... sick, because he’s obviously the most ignorant, pigheaded and stupid _idiot_ around. He’s been so caught up with his own fears and insecurities that he’s completely failed to notice what’s going on with Steve. Yet again. 

Steve... Steve doesn’t let people in. Ever since Afghanistan and maybe even before that, Steve’s been doing his damndest to keep people _out_. To not let anyone get close, to not let anyone get to where they can hurt him, to where (in his twisted logic) they can be hurt _because of him_. But he’s let Danny in. He’s given him the keys to his apartment, his sanctuary; he’s let him hold him through the nightmares and the flashbacks; he’s even told him about _before_ , about his mom and his sister... 

Steve’s let Danny in and Danny has completely failed to notice what that really means. 

So yes, he’s pigheaded and stupid and a complete _idiot_. 

*~*~*~*~*

Steve will have gone home or to the ocean, Danny knows and the ocean is nearest so that's where he looks first. It seems he's guessed right because when he reaches the beach the moon is bright enough for him to see a dark shape sitting on the sand near the water's edge. He squares his shoulders and trudges determinedly towards it, cursing the way the sand gets into his shoes and between his toes (because he's _never_ going to like the beach, whatever Steve and his daughter say) and yes, it's Steve. 

He's sitting staring out to sea with his knees drawn up and his arms around them, hugging them to his chest. He doesn't acknowledge Danny when he sits down beside him, bumping shoulders as he settles onto the sand. 

"Hey," Danny says. "I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't get it, I'm a stupid idiot." 

There's a long, long silence. Danny's just starting to think that maybe Steve didn't hear him when Steve says, "What didn't you _get_ , Danny?" in a clipped, terse tone. 

OK, so maybe he deserves this. 

"Like I said, I'm an idiot, Steve. I was so tied up in my own stuff, in thinking that you'd leave me, that I didn't realize..." 

"Why would I leave you, Danny?" Steve sounds... bleak. Danny would like to hit himself right now. 

"I don't know, babe. It's just... you're... and I'm... I thought that one day you'd find someone... better." 

Steve laughs at that, but there's no mirth in it, it's a hard, hollow sound. 

"When I was in Afghanistan with the SEALs... my team... we were closer than brothers, Danny, I'd have died for them, just like they'd have died for me... but I led them into _that_. I couldn't save them and they _did_ die, because of me, because they trusted me... Then I came back here because I had nowhere else to go and I started working at the bar and... you can't do that stuff if you don't shut yourself off. I told myself that it was the best way, to not let anyone get close..." 

It sounds like Steve's voice is breaking and Danny's glad that it's too dark to see the expression on his face clearly, because he knows it would hurt. 

Steve's not done. 

"Then you came along, Danny and you cared, you fucking _cared_. I told myself that you were weak and that I hated you, but it wasn't true. The truth is I was scared. I was scared because you didn't just see this," he gestures at himself, "you saw _me_ , you saw what was underneath and you _still_ wanted me and I didn't know what to do with that." 

This is pretty much more words than he's ever heard from Steve in one go before, Steve never talks about this shit and hell yeah, Danny's listening. 

"Chin told me I was a fool, and that I should give you a chance... fuck it, Danny, you're strong and you're smart and you're funny and you _care_ about people and for some reason despite all the _shit_ in my life you want _me_. And I want _you_ , so why the fuck do you think I'd ever _leave_?" 

Danny's almost sure he can see the glint of tears in Steve's eyes and he knows damn well how close he is himself. He's been a monumental _idiot_ , that's clear and Steve's hurting because of it and that should never have happened. He snakes an arm around Steve to pull him close and Steve's warm and solid against him and he never wants to lose this. 

He has no intention of losing this. 

"So," he says when he can trust himself to speak. "Guess that means I'm stuck with you then." It comes out kind of gruff and shaky, but he figures that Steve gets it because he feels him relax against him just a fraction. 

"Yeah," Steve answers and his voice doesn't sound so steady, either. "Looks like you are." 

Danny nods then huffs a laugh. "You remember the part where I said I was an idiot? Well, you know, I just want to be sure you're clear what you're getting yourself into here..." 

He feels Steve unwind a bit more and laugh softly in reply. "Danny?" 

"Yes?" 

"What happened to the dinner?" 

Oh fuck, the dinner. He'd turned the heat out under the pots before he left to track down Steve, but that's all. The sauce might be edible but the pasta will be an overcooked mess. 

"Yeah, about the dinner... we might have to rethink dinner..." 

He gets to his feet and holds out his hand to Steve to pull him up. Steve comes up easy and Danny can't resist it, he reels him in for a hug. 

"We good?" 

He feels the last of the tension leave Steve's body. "Yeah, we're good." 

"Come on then." He grabs hold of Steve's hand, there's no one on the beach this late to see them and fuck it, if he wants to walk hand-in-hand with his partner, why the hell shouldn't he? "Pizza's on me. But none of that ham and pineapple shit, you hear me?" 

It's an old joke between them, something well-worn and _normal_ and it seems that that's exactly what's needed because Steve laughs again and this time it's a full-on, honest-to-goodness straightforward sound. 

"You should try it, Danny, you might even like it." 

"Steven, there are many things about this island that I may one day come to accept, perhaps even come to _like_ , but fruit on pizza is not one of them. Abomination, my friend, abomination..." 

Steve stops short, tugging him around and pulling him in tight. They're near enough to the road for the streetlights to illuminate Steve's face and oh yes, this face is one that Danny's _very_ happy to see. Steve looks down at him for a long moment, searching and intense then he grins a wide, beautiful, _wicked_ grin. 

"Danny," he says, one hand sliding suggestively downwards towards Danny's ass while the other tangles in Danny's hair to angle his face up towards Steve's. "You know those things you might come to like..." 

And oh no, Danny knows where this is going and that is _so_ not happening, it's really _not_. He pushes Steve away from him with a sharp shove. 

"No way, Steven. We are _not_ having sex on the beach, do you hear me? We are going home to my apartment where there is a bed and no sand and we can have sex like civilized grown-ups, not a pair of horny teenagers..." 

Steve pulls him in again and fuck it, the grin's turned predatory and damn Steve and his love of a challenge. 

"Come on, Danny," he murmurs into Danny's ear in a low tone that sends shivers over Danny's skin, "Live a little." His hands are back on Danny's ass, firm and persuasive and he's pressing up against Danny's hip in a way that leaves no doubt as to how interested he is and really, what's a guy to do with that? 

Danny knows when he's beaten. He gives a big, dramatic, long-suffering sigh, a token show of protest and says "For the record? I am _not_ making a habit of this..." Steve nods, pretending to look serious. "OK, Danny, anything you say..." and then he tumbles Danny down onto the soft sand and starts kissing him, hot and needy and oh-so-good. 

What the hell, Danny thinks, rolling Steve so that he can take control of the kiss. Steve wants this, wants Danny, and the rewards are probably worth putting up with a little bit of sand in awkward places, after all. 

Just this once, anyway.


End file.
